Cleanup on Aisle Ego

Posted on Thu Jan 9th, 2025 @ 3:18am by Chief Comms Rivek & Curtis Vaan

Mission: Shackles
Location: Deck 8
1447 words - 2.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Rivek was not used to the silence. After hours of hearing personal logs, it was easy to drown out. Now, he could hear every footstep, every breath, and even the heartbeats of those around him. The diagnostic was complete, and the internal comms system was back online. However, the mess of conduits sat in front of Rivek like a pile of gagh. Untangling this was one part, but also installing security measures so accidents like before don't happen again. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Any ideas on how to tackle this?"

"I say we torpedo the site from orbit. It's the only way to be sure." Curtis flicked a small PADD in his fingers, now a nervous tick as he too contemplated the large mess. "Sweep it under a rug somewhere? I don't know. If it works now, I'm not exactly falling over myself to touch it again, what do you think?"

"I guess the age-old adage, 'don't fix it if it ain't broken' applies here." The Rosie had generations' worth of fixes that Rivek could never fully understand. "So the systems are all connected and fine, but we still need to figure out a way to keep our internal data on-lock. There's far more secrets aboard than just logs."

"You're telling me. I can't even imagine what the resident Romulans have stashed away..." Curtis sighed wistfully. "But at least it isn't spewing out our personal lives anymore. There should be some backup data storage units somewhere. Or if you have a few days free I bet the Collector guy had something useful tucked away in the Grotto."

Rivek ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the mess of wires. “The Grotto, huh?” A shiver went down his spine as memories flooded of the time he was in the museum of dangerous tech. He glanced at the conduits again, fingers twitching with the urge to rip it all out and start from scratch. “The deathtrap just waiting to happen?” He sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. “I can rig up a few security layers, but it won’t hold if someone really wants in.” Turning to Curtis, he raised an eyebrow. “So it’s either a scavenger hunt in the Grotto or begging Engineering for whatever scraps they’ve got left. —or we can just go with your original plan of sending a torpedo through deck 8."

"I have an idea," Rivek said while stepping back. He rifled through his toolkit and pulled out a metal canister. He unscrewed the top and took a sip. After letting it sink down his gullet, he gave a satisfied hiss. He raised a brow, offering Curtis a swig.

"Drinking away our problems?" Curtis took the bottle and took a sip himself. "Now there's an idea I can get behind."

Rivek looked at the panel again. He slumped down, sitting against the wall on the opposite side. "Maybe the Rosie knows what she's doing—messy and all." He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol settling in his stomach, or if the ship groaned in retort. "I just don't want another data leak to happen. You know?"

"Ah don't worry about it. She's been through a lot." Curtis sank down against the bulkhead mirroring Rivek's. "Unexpected and death-defying accidents are practically a rite of passage these days. You'll soon understand the Holy Trinity of Chaos on board the Mary Rose: Technology, Dragons and Temporal phenomenon. It's like you're part of the crew now, see?"

"You know, I'm not used to working on such an old system. Hell, the oldest piece of tech I had in Jerichon was a five-year old earpiece," Rivek said. He took the bottle from Curtis's hand and flushed down another sip. "How long have you been working on this hunk of hull?"

"No idea. I stopped counting. Must be...nearly a couple of years at this point? But don't tell Laney, she'll call me old." Curtis tapped himself on the nose lightly. "What about you? You said you were working with older systems too? What's your story?"

Rivek took in a deep breath. Since being on the Rosie, he hadn't personally confided in many people about his past. But after the internal comms conundrum, what was secret anymore? "I'm from Epharia City. It's a sizeable port, but doesn't have much else outside of the city. Got into some cyber-vigilantism—at least that's what the news station called it. I did some real good for the people in that city. Helped take down a few big name corpo bosses. Distributed the wealth, that sort of thing." He took another swig of the drink. His voice cracked as he spoke. "Somehow got my identity leaked. Hell, all of my information leaked. There wasn't a shred of me that didn't become public information. So, I had to leave. You know, before someone decided to take revenge." He shook his head. "If I ever find the bastard that broke through my system..."

"Sounds like a damn good concept for a holonovel," Curtis mused. "Daring cyberpunk tech runner battling the murky corporates and shadowy gangs...I'll have to see if Laney wants in on writing. Can always negotiate a ghost-writing fee..." He pushed himself more upright. "That is, er, if you weren't like, still on the run and stuff. Guess that might be too real."

"I haven't run into a hitman in a while," Rivek said. He chuckled slightly as he thought about him spotlighted as a protagonist of an action story. "It's far less exciting day-to-day than it may seem. I would say a standard day here has more... novelty than hacking security systems."

"Sure, but if I say my job is daily maintenance of automated computer systems, and you say hacking security systems, which one do you think is gonna end up more exciting in the long run?" Curtis shrugged. "Just saying. This place can be damn near horrific if you stay too long. And you live that long." He flipped his padd gently in his fingers for a moment. "Though judging by that pile of circuits and wires, I think we're both well on the way to a nasty end."

Rivek chuckled, a dry laugh with a fume of alcohol. That's one way to put it. Between this mess and whatever horrors are stashed in the Grotto, I think the Rosie has it out for us." He leaned his head back against the bulkhead, letting his gaze drift to the ceiling. "No one's banging down the door to help with diagnostic scans and comm repairs. So whatever I was in that past life, I'm no longer a part of that riveting adventure."

"After having our personal lives spread across internal comms, I'm not surprised; I doubt anyone will be in a huge rush to touch half those systems for a while," the Risian sighed. "But hey, they say life is one big adventure, right? Won't be long before there's a new chaotic one just around the corner..."

Rivek let out a slow breath, rolling the empty canister between his hands. The faint hum of the Rosie’s engines thrummed beneath them, a small comfort in the otherwise quiet corridor. "You know, Curtis, I think I’m starting to get it. This ship’s less of a vessel and more of a living thing. Moody, unpredictable, but somehow still moving forward."

Curtis chuckled. "Title of my autobiography," he remarked, noting how close-to-home the expression felt. "Probably applicable to a few people on board, actually. I like it, though. We should get that stenciled on the hull." He pushed himself up to his feet. "Though knowing our luck we'd probably rip a new hole in it in the process..."

Rivek's chuckle had the scent of alcohol in it. "Add my biography next to that: 'Man who deals in secrets is terrible at keeping secrets.'" He stretched his legs before heaving himself to his feet. "It seems my motivation has boosted. I can't think of a problem that can't be solved with booze and banter." He looked to the relay again, his eyes couldn't focus too clearly on it. He wasn't sure if it was the liquid confidence or that he actually solved the problem. He walked up to the relay and pulled out one conduits from it. Almost instantly, the electrical pulses on the diagnostic display opened like a breaking dam. "Looky here, it seems we fixed the problem."

The Risian shrugged and nodded his approval. "We'll save the torpedo strike from orbit for next time, eh?"

"Yeah," Rivek agreed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "We'll put that idea in our back pockets."

 

Comments (1)